A peculiar encounter at Baker Street
by EvannaLy
Summary: "He knew something was off. Definetely! It wasn't suspicious of his brother to avoid social gatherings, he normally did that all the time. But receiving a positive answer to an invitation? Something had to be wrong!" - Mycrofts behaving peculiar and everything turns out completely different than expected.
1. An unnormal day

**Hey :D**

 **It has been quite a while since my last story.**

 **But well, with exams everywhere it's not that easy...**

 **I hope you'll enjoy reading this little piece about Mycroft and Sherlock. I thought it was time for a little bit of brotherfeelings. It is definetely a Two-Shot but like I know myself there will be more chapters in the end.  
**

 **As always I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I do what I can but english is still not my mother tongue... :D**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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 **Sherlocks POV**

He knew something was off. Definetely! It wasn't suspicious of his brother to avoid social gatherings, he normally did that all the time. But receiving a positive answer to an invitation? Something had to be wrong!

Sherlock paced in front of the couch and tried to find an explanation for his brothers peculiar behaviour. Illness? Not likely. Mycroft was never ill. Additionally he would try to hide it, if he should actually fall out of routine. Missing Sherlock? Of course, it wasn't like he couldn't look at him through the CCTV footage, no also not a possible solution. Maybe he had forgot a highly important event, such as a birthday... but nay, it was neither Sherlocks nor Johns, so therefore this was also not the answer.

He was still as clueless as before when John entered the room. He aimed for the kitchen, holding full bags with food for the party in his hands, when he noticed Sherlocks narrowed eyebrows and his thoughtful face. „Sherlock! You promised it!", „What exactly are you talking about?", „No cases today, nor experiments or other distractions! Just a normal evening between friends to have fun.", „Your definition of fun is definetely not the same as mine, but your agitation isn't necessary. I was thinking about that very party you planned.", „Indeed, you did?" John eyed him suspicously but came nearer, his interest awakened.

„Something specific or the horror of socializing in general?", „JOHN!", came the offended answer at once. „No", Sherlock said indignantly, „Mycroft just messaged me, that he will act upon our invitation and will come to Baker Street tonight.", „He did what? Is he ill?", „That was my first thought too, but no, I don't think so. On the other hand I'm still in need of a logical explanation..." A second later he had retreated into his mind palace once more, leaving a confused John with the task of producing a proper meal and everything else.

 **Mycrofts POV**

It was a bad idea. No, not only a bad idea, but one of the worst ideas he ever had. Sherlock would be alarmed at his acceptance by now and trace every hint to the reason of his decision at once. Then an endless flow of teasing would begin,... yes, he was foolish, indeed. But one has only one birthday per year. And since he had no real friends and his parents had died a while ago it was only understandable that one doesn't want to be lonely on that day and seeks out his ignorant brother.

Ok, not really understandable, he was Mycroft Holmes after all. It was a well-known fact that he hated every kind of displayed emotions, but even he had to admit from time to time that he was human and not merely a machine. He needed the presence of something akin to friends once in a while to not go mad with all the idiots and their idiotic behaviour around him that he had to endure all day long.

But still, to come willently, without work as a reason to Baker Street – it was a very, very bad idea!

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 **Any Reviews?:D:D**

 **The next part will follow soon.**


	2. A still unnormal evening

**Here comes already chapter 2.**

 **Only Mycrofts POV this time but longer than the last chapter instead.**

 **Reviews, please?:D**

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 _A few hours later:_

 **Mycrofts POV**

He finished all of his paperwork in time, left instructions for the remaining staff, bid his goodbye to Anthea and was now on his way to Sherlocks and Johns flat. The black car sought its way through the street maze of London while Mycroft simply stared out of its window and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for his unusual behaviour. Needless to say, that he wasn't that successful.

Faster than he had anticipated the car had reached its destination and Mycroft had to climb out. He told his driver that he should wait somewhere near, that it wouldn't be a matter of long time. Then he took a deep breath that only a trained eye would have noticed, before he walked straight to the door of 221b Baker Street and knocked three times.

At first nothing happened, then a rustle of excited feet came nearer, until Mrs. Hudson opened the front door, a healthy blush on her cheeks from all the walking. „Hello Mr. Holmes, it has been a long time.", she covered her surpise at his sight quite well. „Come in, come in, Mr. Lestrade and Ms. Hooper have already arrived, so there's only Mary still missing.", „Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I will see myself up, then."

He bowed his head and strode past her. Hesitantly but without faltering in his steps he climbed the stairs and reached the door to Sherlocks realm. He entered the living room and stopped then after three steps, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight of Sherlock, John, Ms. Hooper and Mr. Lestrade staring at him, surprised that he actually came despite knowing of his confirmation.

„Chrm, well, isn't this a cozy assembly?", he broke the silence with a large ammount of irony. Not really polite but it had the purposefully effect of waking Sherlock out of his rigidity. „At least he isn't ill... Well, hello, brother, don't you have any crises to prevent or other governmental duties to accomplish?", „No, for once I thought my time would be better spent over bonding time with my dear little baby brother. If I think about it – I must have been in quite a state to have such ridiculous ideas..." It was a large internal struggle Mycroft had to meet to bring those words out without raising suspicion. Because under the fake irony had laid the truth, hidden, but still there for him to feel. He needed his brother on this day. But as he looked at Sherlock, getting out of his chair and talking all 'no, not ill, just his usual insufferable self' without even giving him a glance any longer he knew he forgot it again. And didn't even care.

Mycroft collected his thoughts, banning everything concerning forgotten birthdays in the darkest corner of his mind and aimed concentration to surviving the evening. He started a relatively uninteresting but 'normal' conservation with Lestrade about the current policy and changes in the system of the police departments and even remembered his good upbringing long enough to compliment Ms. Hooper on her obviously new dress. Light green with yellow dots – not exactly his taste but who was he to judge.

Then eventually John called them for dinner and he could escape the tense atmosphere. Tense at least in his eyes. Fortunately Mary had arrived in the meantime. She managed to make everyone more at ease, so they were actually able to enjoy the food and company. John, or Mrs. Hudson more likely had made a delicious lasagne with a salad and Lestrade had provided wine for everyone. But the main reason Mycroft hadn't already left – beside that he had a pride to defend – was that Sherlock had started a conversation with him on his own initiative. He couldn't remember when it was the last time something like that had happened.

They talked about a newly invented antidote to a viral infection and how it could be improved, then about the developement of the latest studies of possible anti-cancer serums with different approaches to the matter and lastly about the lasagne and how it could almost be compared to their mothers. Completely unexpected as it was, Mycroft enjoyed every second of it and reveled in the fact, that it was Sherlock who started the whole affair.

But like always Sherlock was only fixed on one topic for a limited time, before something else captured his attention, so it was hardly a surprise when he turned away from Mycroft mid-sentence and started a discussion about different types of tobacco and how that could be important in chasing and convicting criminals with Lestrade.

Mycroft remained sitting there as lost as before, observing the chattering of the others like the outsider he felt himself to be. He drank solemnly of his wine and decided to call it an end. He never was one to miss the cue to leave. So he stood up silently, thanked Mrs. Hudson for her delightful cooking and said his goodbyes. He didn't think that anyone despite the ever polite Molly Hooper actually realised his retreat, but forced himself to stop caring. He called his driver to pick him up at the front door and smoked a cigarette, deep in thoughts but nonetheless aware of his surroundings. Stay always alerted! Alerted and emotional indifferent! It had always been his motto.

When he finally reached home he laid his cloak and umbrella aside and walked to his living room. Out of a wooden drawer he took a bottle and poured himself a glass of scotch.

„Happy birthday, Mycroft Holmes!", he spoke silently into the empty room and emptied the glass.

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 **I know I know, not that much interaction between the brothers, but the real confrontation is yet to come. Mycroft's still denying and Sherlock ignoring, so it is only a matter of time... :D**


	3. The difficulties of socializing

**Sherlock POV:**

To say he was startled, when Mycroft entered the room, was a definite understatement! It was due to his brothers ever present sarcasm that he had managed to withdraw himself from his puzzlement. „At least he isn't ill... Well, hello, brother, don't you have any crises to prevent or other governmental duties to accomplish?", sarcasm was good, sarcasm was familiar. No need the alienate the situation any further, „No, for once I thought my time would be better spent over bonding time with my dear little baby brother. If I think about it – I must have been in quite a state to have such ridiculous ideas..." At least one thing they agreed about.

It seemed as if Mycroft was really as healthy and sound as normally. Whether that was actually the case or not didn't really mattered to him, as long as Mycroft remained in that state. „No, not ill, just his usual insufferable self", Sherlock mumbled and stood up from his chair. Time for hiding as long as he could from getting socially involved with 'his' guests.

When it was finally dinner time, he found himself in a rather precarious situation. He definetely didn't wanted to talk about the dog of their new neighbour, as did Mrs. Hudson, John and Mary. Molly and Lestrade were neither an option, just as drawing attention at him through remaining quiet. That left Mycroft to talk to.

Given the fact that it had been quite a while since the two brothers last had had a real discussion, especially about something academic he thought he would do no harm in engaging Mycroft in a conversation about anti-cancer serums and different medical improvements in the current research. He would never let anyone know it, but Sherlock felt content afterwards. There were few people that could match his intelligence and wits and Mycroft was one of the few of them .

He behaved as normal as possible – only because John had asked him – and therefore even missed his brothers retreat to his own house. So when he went to bed he realized that he still hadn't found out what had led to Mycroft joining them. Despite that Sherlock shrugged to himself, tried to ignore the stain on his pride and drifted into a dreamless slumber.

 _Next Morning:_

 **Sherlock POV:**

With a groan he entered the kitchen and collapsed in 'his' chair. John and Mary, who both had stayed over night already sat there and observed his pinched expression with two identical, smug smirks. Sherlock glared at them without real success – they didn't even do as much as shifting in their seats.

„Stop that! It's unnecessary and unnerving!", Sherlock grumbled and filled himself a cup of tea. „Well, it's always fun to see you dealing with your aftereffects of socializing.", John offered to answer, shared a glance with Mary and started to outright laugh. Sherlock therefore punished them with ignoring them until a short ringing came from the sink.

„What was that?", Mary asked confused. „Your phone, John. Fetch it please, or it will annoy as further in a few minutes.", „My phone? I don't think so. I didn't recognized that tune.". He stood up nonetheless. „Yeah, of course not, it's a new one I installed last week. It's for messages which are meant for me." John stared at him incredulously. „For what do you need MY phone?!", „Oh please, don't act so surprised. I used it in the past and I will use it again. The tune only simplified matters. There are information which needs to reach me and as you are the one who actually checks his phone now and then you seemed as the best option. And now give me the phone!"

John rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Sherlock unlocked it and started to read. No SMS, but a calendar memo.

„ _Congratulations. You managed to avoid the one day per year were due to the brotherly responsibilities you actually have to be nice to Mycroft. Birthdays are useless emotional celebrations anyway."_

He reread the note he made a few months prior two times again and with every round he felt more guilty. Even as he would have acted exactly as the note considered as appropriately every year, this one was different. Even though they hadn't talked about it he knew how deeply Mycroft had been affected by their parents death and how he tended to suffocate himself with work whenever he was too emotional for his own liking, exactly what he had done recently. The fact that he went to Baker Street on his own account was evidence enough to make him realize how ignorant he had been the one time where a different approach had been necessary.

Damnit, he hadn't behaved only ignorant, he had even made fun of him for coming withour a real reason while consciously neglecting his work. He was in urgent need of a plan, if he wanted to make up for this as soon as possible!

Ignoring Johns and Marys questioning stares he stood up, Johns phone tightly clutched in his hands and almost ran out of the room. Better to start thinking sooner than later!

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 **Hey everyone,**

 **it took me a week but I finally found time for the third chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoyed it and leave many reviews (plz? :-) )**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**


	4. A clueless detective

**Hey there,**

 **I'm really, really sorry that it took me so long to update a new chapter! I was on a holiday trip after weeks of learning, so you'll hopefully excuse me :D**

 **This chapter contains a little Sherlolly. Not in a romantic way though, only some of their friendship. I always found their interaction quite funny^^**

 **So I hope you'll enjoy reading, don't forget to honour me with your reviews and I promise I'll be faster with the next chapter:P**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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 **Sherlocks POV**

Exactly 47 minutes and 23 seconds later he was still none the wiser and at the same spot as at the beginning. Frustrated and annoyed with himself he left his quarters and strolled slowly through the city. Without consciously thinking about it he went to St. Barts and to Molly. Who was there better suited to answer emotionally concerned questions, after all?

Content to have come up with a solution where to start he strode confidently through the hallways like he owned the place. He had a reputation to defend, after all. Without concerning himself with such humane things like knocking he rushed through the doors of the lab, causing Molly who was working on paper work to jump visibly in her chair at the sudden intrusion.

„What the hell, Sherlock? Would it hurt you that much to behave politely for once?", she asked annoyed. „It really was a lot easier when you wouldn't dream of criticising or shouting at me... But that's not important right now. Molly, you have to help me!"

The person in question narrowed her eyes and glared at him in a very-not-pleased manner. „Dear Molly, I know you are working right now and I hate to be such a nuisance, but could you PLEASE help me with another of my never-ending problems?" Sherlock pouted at her. „You are mean! Why are you mean? I have asked you nicely!" Molly sighed and turned her complete attention on him. „You're unbelievable, but you won't leave anyway. So go on, what's the matter?"

Sherlock took a seat opposite of her, feeling quite satisfied. Molly never managed to stay mad at him for long. „I have kind of, well it could be that I, damnit!", „Just spit it out already!", „I forgot Mycrofts birthday.", he said resignedly. Molly sent him a questioning glare. „Well, not that I would approve, but haven't you done that purposely every year?", „Yeah I know!" Sherlock jumped out of his chair and began to pace restlessly in front of her desk. „But it's the first time it would have been wiser to take a different course of action. And the first time I feel guilty for it.", he concluded with a pinched expression. Guilt really wasn't something he felt normally and exactly that made the whole chaos even more discomforting!

„Oh Sherlock! It's a good thing to feel, even if you might not agree with me right now. It was about time that the two of you begin to bond.", „Bond?", he shrieked in panic. „No one said something about bonding! I just wanted an advice on how to act upon this situation!" Molly let out a giggle and grinned at him. „I know, I know, but I am right. No matter. It seems quite obvious to me that you have to talk with him about him. You could surprise him, get him a present or something. He knows you after all, I don't think he would hold a grudge or anything for such a sentiment coming a little late. Actually I think he would be happy about such kind of attention from you."

Sherlock stared at her with a blank expression. „Surprise? Present? Have you forgot who we are talking about? You cannot surprise Mycroft Holmes! He knows everything before you even think about it and will always be three, six, nine steps ahead of you! And he doesn't care much about anything material besides his umbrellas, his suits and the scotch he buys himself every two months.", „Well, how advantageous for you that you happen to be his brother with a brain that can rival his and the knowledge to think of something which will make him happy!" She roses one eyebrow and waited for his reaction.

Sherlock was halfway into his mind palace already and gazed unfocusedly into the air. „Well, you might have a point or two...", „Of course I do", she stated with a smug expression. „And now – get your arse out of my lab, I have work to do and YOU, Mister, have to do some thinking, I believe!"

To her great surprise he followed her command and left without a further word.

 **Mycrofts POV**

Working. Working was good, working was unemotional, it was destraction. Working was perfect. But unfortunately his usual coping method for whenever his own rare emotions got the better of him seemed to have lost its effect. He wished he could cry out his frustration, not that a Mycroft Holmes would ever swear. Well, at least not in public, or when there would be any witnesses to survive. But right now he really wished he could curse anyone bothering him with their pathetic little problems and their never-ending questions – How do I do this? How do I do that? It wasn't as if he hadn't his own job to do!

After another useless advice session with the prime minister he told Anthea to prevent any visitors to come near him and his office for the rest of the day. She really was the only reliable and trustworthy employee of this kindergarden!

With a sigh he seated himself on his favourite leather chair and rubbed his temples in a circling movement. Then he grabbed the cup of tea his thoughtful assistant provided him with and tried to repress his rising headache.

It really wasn't his week!


	5. The Heureka-moment comes nearer

**Hey there,**

 **I have to apologize again for making you wait so long for another chapter. And I have to admit, I don't even like this one. Yeah, the joys of uncreative hours... Well, either way, this is only an interlude. I promise the next chap will finally contain some of Sherlocks ideas to make his ignorance up to Mycroft.**

 **For now, as always, please excuse any mistakes and feel free to review to your hearts content :D**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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 **Sherlocks POV**

Even though he had spent the whole two hours after leaving Molly trying to find a solution to her suggestion, he hadn't come up with something fitting yet. Of course he had 7 alternatives ready, but nothing had striked him as perfect yet. And he was nothing if not a perfectionst!

Deep in thoughts he strode into 221B, passed John who was reading one of his novels without a greeting and sat down on the couch, staring aimlessly into the air. Stupid older brothers! And stupid sentiment! He knew perfectly well why he usually tried to avoid such things.

„Sherlock?", he heard in the distance. „Sherlock Holmes, will you listen to me now!", well, that was enough to pull him out of his trance. John was standing directly in front of him, hands on his hips, glaring at him with a determinded expression. „Tell me what's bothering you or leave me alone and go to your room! It's been almost a day without a coherent sentence from your side.", „Calm down John, it's not a case, nothing important.", „Then what IS it?", „Mycroft.", „That's not exactly an answer." At least he had backed off ans sat down on his chair once again. Sherlock sighed.

„I forgot his birthday and even though that's usually exactly my goal, this year it wasn't the proper thing to do. So I need to think of something like a present or surprise and I have NO IDEA! There's a reason why we normally don't do that!" He stared at John, a little out of breath.

But the traitor, yeah, that's exactly what he was, only laughed at him. Laughed! At him! „It can't be that hard, Sherlock. There have to be simple things he like. A special chocolate brand, or something like that. The intention counts.", „But it has to be something special. Or at least useful, otherwise he'll won't understand it as a present but only a joke from my side. That's probably the downside of all the comments about his weight..." And again he was lost in his mind palace.

 _Thirty minutes later:_

That was it! He knew exactly what he had to do! Even if it meant a lot of work, and – even worse – that he had to ask someone for help who wasn't John!

 **Mycrofts POV**

Something was off with Sherlock. He behaved rather suspiciously the last few hours. Due to the surveillance reports he knew that he had been at Barts with neither a case nor an experiment dictating it. He also seemed confused when returning from his little chat with the pathologist. It was a shame that there weren't cameras allowed in the lab. Well, officially. But he never thought of installing some there.

Either way – Sherlock was acting strange also because he hasn't showed up yet to mock him how sorry he was for forgetting his 'special' day AGAIN. Well, maybe he started to really forget them at last. Mycroft didn't knew which version he would prefer.

For now he was just glad that there was no need to put any extra ammount of concentration on the task of maintaining his mask. His employees were to stupid to properly read something in a facial expression anyway. Ok, maybe Anthea had realized that he wasn't on his usual heigth, but besides her, who would never dream of sharing such a sensible piece of information with anyone... Nonetheless, Sherlocks absence made his life at least easier in that regard.

What didn't meant that he wasn't worried about his little brothers behaviour. That it had nothing in common with his attitude before a danger night was only a small reassurance.

Like he told John so long ago – and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson of course – he worried about him, constantly! Nothing could and would ever change that.

He called for his PA. „Anthea, would you please bring me the newest report, dear?", „Already done sir." With a smile she gave him two pages of short notes. He gave her a grateful nod and roughly read through the text. 'Walked aimlessly through the city', 'Returned to 221B Baker Street after approx. 2 hours', 'Loud voices shortly after his arrival', 'Laughing from John', 'Only quiet murmurs after that', 'Hasn't left the flat since'. To conclude, nothing useful at all.

Annoyed he laid the papers aside and put his head in his hand. Always the same!

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 **Like I said, only an interlude... Hope the next chap will be coming sooner :D**


	6. Conspiring at 03:34 am

**Hey there,**

 **at least this time I was able to stay true to my promise to update faster without a months delay :D**

 **This chapter contains Antheas POV - finally! We know so little about her while being such a constant in Mycrofts life... I find her quite fascinating. And of course, like promised it gets a bit more specific about Sherlocks ideas how to make up for his ignorance.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading this and shower me with reviews - they're always a mood lifter AND make me update the next chap sooner :D**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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Chapter 6

 **Anthea POV**

That she received text messages at ungodly times was nothing unusual. But that it wasn't her workphone, but her emergency Blackberry... That was definetely something to be worried about! Only two people got the number for that and as she could say for sure that Mycroft was sleeping at home it had to be the one and only Consulting Detective.

„Damn Sherlock, what's it now?", she murmured annoyed while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and grabbing the phone. _„Need your help. Now, if possible. More information when I arrive at your place. Ah, and don't call Mycroft!"_ , it said.

„Sherlock! You stupid git!" Anthea was actually angry now. No one was supposed to know where she lived, and she wasn't one of Sherlocks minions who he could call at all times of the day! But she also knew that he would come either way. And it really was a first. He had asked for help, without trying to rephrase it! About his request about not telling Mycroft, that was another story. She would wait for what Sherlock had to tell her and if she deemed it necessary to inform his older brother about the revelations, she would do what was necessary!

With having made up her mind like that she stood reluctantly up from her bed and put on her deep red dressing gown – her favourite – before making her way to the kitchen to heat up some water. Without a decent cup of tea she wouldn't discuss anything!

15 minutes later the bell rang and she opened her door to find herself face to face to a slightly out-of-breath looking Sherlock. He seemed a little dishevelled, be it by the wind or the excitement which was radiating off of his whole posture.

„Well", she drawled slowly, simply to annoy him. She deserved a little revenge for being robbed of her precious sleep, after all! „What do we have here?", „Anthea! Is that really necessary? Time is worthy.", „As you are the one who keeps me up from curling up into my wonderful bed and sleep how I planned to, yeah, I think it is. But because I'm such a nice and forgiving person you may enter nonetheless. But you better make it worth it!"

He stepped in and she closed the door behind him before leading him into the living room where she sat down on her elegant leather couch. After he had also made himself comfortable – for his standards at least – she focused her stare at him. „Pray tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of you visiting me at-", she took a look at the clock on the wall, „03:34 am?", „As I said, I need your help. You need to give me access to all the work Mycroft has to do tomorrow, and also a list with all the people, who usually annoy him at work!", „Give me one good reason why I should even consider doing such a traitorous thing, or I will call your brother, immediately!", „No, don't do that, listen to me for god's sake! I want to surprise him, ok? I forgot his birthday and it's the first time I might feel guilty about that. Molly suggested giving him a present, to surprise him. And as YOU of all people should now that there's very little he helds in such high regards as his work. Therefore, I plan to do all of his due work, make his workplace a little bit more... bearable I would think. I need you to distract him until I'm finished. And he has to be tricked into driving to our family manor. That's crucial! Are those enough reasons for you?" He glared at her with a challenging stare.

Anthea on the other hand was quite shocked by his confessions. Not only has he admitted to being guilty about behaving like the bad brother he usually was, no, he also actively tried to make up for that AND going even so far as to asking for help to make it happen. Maybe it all was only a weird dream and she would wake up in a minute and laugh about her imagination.

„I have to admit, I'm impressed Sherlock. There really is some decency in you, after all." She contemplated the matter for a minute. „I won't inform your brother about your plans. And I will help you with what you came up with, as it actually is a good idea and WILL mean something to him. But I warn you!" She narrowed her eyes at him. „If you haven't told me the complete and utter truth, if you misuse my trust in any way or hurt Mycroft along the way, you won't be recognizing your name when I'm through with you! There's a reson why I was his only PA that stayed longer than a year!"

Sherlock nodded to confirm his understanding. „I promise you you can trust me and I won't mess it up."

„Well, then let's start! We've only lost too much time already! You have no idea what he normally manages to do on one day. If every politician would work as effective as he does, we would live in a better world!"


	7. The deceiving begins

**Hey there,**

 **Sherlocks plan finally begins to take place. And Mycroft remains clueless for now.**

 **Enjoy reading and plz leave me a review :D**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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 **Sherlocks POV**

The next few hours went by in a blur. Like promised Anthea had given him access to his brothers current work and Sherlock started working on it. He also had to grudgingly admit, that his brother obviously was a saint! Not that he would ever confirm that if asked. But the endless stream of paper work, the diplomatic dance on a tightrope and in addition the petty problems of his staff. If he then added the surveillance he had on HIMSELF and his friends – dear god, he wasn't jealous at all! He also couldn't explain to himself, why his brother should deal with all of that every day on a free will basis. It wasn't as if he had to repay Great Britain a debt or something. On the other hand, Mycroft also needed an occupation for his never slowing mind. But still... Why should he care if Tansania neglected this treaty or China another. Then there was the whole 'Terror' stuff. Here a suspicious rumour, there another attack to be prevented. At last the tiresome correspondence with all the politicians who where too big idiots to manage their job on their own. Really, the Queen seemed to be the only competent one of all of his brothers contacts!

Sherlock groaned as Anthea told him precisely at 05:30 am, that he hadn't even managed a quarter of the ammount of work. „That's just crazy! No one should have to do THAT much. Not even as a high positioned governmental employee! They could divide most of that for several people to work at!" Anthea only grinned at him. „And you haven't even had a look on all the stuff he actually DO delegates to other people." She put a cup of tea in front of him and put on her jacket, scarve and terrifying high pumps. „I'll go to him now. And I will try to distract him, tell him I made other people work on his cases, at least for now, but I can't promise anything. You know him, he can smell a lie over two miles. Besides his mind is just as restless as yours, so whatever emergency I can think of will hold him back only for so long. You have to hurry up. Best would be if you would went to the office now. It will take us another one and a half hours if my plan works. A one important thing: don't let yourself be seen by the CCTV cameras. I deleted you from all who indicated you coming here and I will tell him you disappeared. That's the only thing that will hold him back from work longer than twenty minutes."

Sherlock stared at her, before an uncharacteristically large smile spread on his face. „I might have underestimated you! I won't be seen. And good luck. Ah, and John doesn't now where I went to, so you might visit him – will by you some time." Anthea nodded graciously, both in understanding and accepting the for a Holmes huge compliment, before leaving her flat, ready to deal with the stress of one of the most dangerous people in the country. A completely normal day.

 _30 minutes later:_

Sherlock carefully entered his brothers office. There were too many security cameras in London, definetely! Even some new, he hadn't known about till now. So, next part to work on. He put on his most arrogant and know-it-all-while-slightly-intimidating face and strode into the first office of one of his brothers workers.

„Mr. Parker, am I right?", he said in a menacing voice. „Y-yeah? Who wants to know that?", „Not your concern. But what really IS, is not only your incompentence to do your job properly, but that you are unable to spare Mr. Holmes having to deal with that. Wouldn't you agree, that he has much more important things on his mind and much more important work to do?", „O-o-of c-course." Mr. Parker wringed his hands nervously while there was sweat beginning to appear on his forehead. „Then you will hopefully also agree with me, that he won't be bothered in the future anymore! If you have a question, ask one of your coworkers who are on the same level as you!", „I-I promise.", „Good decision, Mr. Parker, good decision. Ah, by the way – I'll know if you break that promise! I won't be that nice again." With that words he strode forcefully out of the room, leaving a frightened governmentworker behind him.

One finished, 36 to go. Oh joy!

 **Mycrofts POV**

„What do you mean, he disappeared! He can't just disappear!" Mycroft stared at his PA, uncomprehending how this information could be true. He dialled his brothers number, but just as Anthea said – Sherlock didn't answer. He also texted him frantically, but to no avail. He groaned. This morning had started like every other, but since he was greeted by Anthea in his black car everything had went downhill. „Exactly what I said. The surveillance team lost sight of him around midnight and he wasn't seen anywhere since.", „But he disappeared before for cases. He knows his way around the city, that's nothing new.", „But as John confirmed an hour ago, he wasn't working on any interesting case lately. Normally he also appears again after a few hours. Or he informs John about his doings, who is just as clueless as we are right now. I have told the driver to bring us to 221B – maybe you'll be able the find anything of interest. All the while I instructed the surveillance team to send me updates every 30 minutes and to call me directly, if there are some crucial news."

Mycroft sagged back into his seat. „Well done, dear. I'm sorry for shouting, it isn't your fault after all that my little brother is such a nuisance all the time! Have you also rescheduled my meetings for today?", „Meetings are rescheduled and the most pressing work's delegated, sir. The kingdom won't fall the next few hours. And we will find Sherlock. We always do.", she touched his arm encouragingly, before staring at her blackberry agin.

All the while Mycroft stared out of the window. It was raining again – how fitting. Why couldn't Sherlock inform him about such things, only once? But no, they always had to play the adult version of hide and seek, while he never knew if he was just being teased again or if his brother was in actual danger. Oh damnit Sherlock!


	8. The final countdown

**Hey there,**  


 **here comes chapter 8. If everything goes accordingly to my plan it's the last before the final one. Maybe there will be an epilogue... Either way, this is the final countdown.**

 **I hope you enjoy it and fell free - like always - to inform me about any mistakes. I give my best but it's still not my mothertongue.**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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Chapter 8 - The final countdown  


 **Sherlocks POV**

As he finally finished the last interview, it really was about time. He had already received several messages from Anthea about how his brother was faring – right now working thouroughly through his and Johns flat in search of a hint, but he wouldn't be kept away from his office any longer. The next stage of Mycrofts plan – going personally over all camera records in case the team overlooked something.

Sherlock left the building and took the way he already took once this day back to Antheas flat. There was still lots of paperwork left – urgh!

 _Four hours later:_

Finally! With a relieved sigh he closed the last file of his brothers work. He knew he hadn't been as thorough as Mycroft would have been – diplomacy really wasn't his strong suit – but for an uninformed civilist his work has been quite acceptable. Hopefully. But he had no time to worry about such things, time was running out. Antheas last text message was clear: come to an end or your brother will kill you! He wasn't that keen on meeting his grave, so he quickly put all the files on Antheas dinner table for her to get later and left the flat. Time to go back to Baker Street. There was one last thing he needed to collect before contacting his brother.

As he made his way home much slower than he would have normally – he still had to avoid all security cameras – he remembered why they usually didn't do emotions. It was awfully exhausting!

 **Mycrofts POV**

He would kill him! This time he would kill him! Definetely! After returning from the unsuccessful visit of Baker Street he had spent two hours checking all CCTV footage for himself – relying on idiots wouldn't bring his brother back, after all – which was wasted time once more. Then he had called all of his brothers associates he had knowledge of in hope of finding a clue as to what Sherlock was up to. As that brought no useful result at all he slowly started to panic. The last time it had took him that long to find him he found him in an empty warehouse with an overdose nearly killing him. So it was justified to panic. Even for a Holmes.

Now he was sitting in his office chair, staring aimlessly into the air. His employees had been informed to keep a close track on the new camera records and to inform him about every new development. He had no idea what else he could do. Damn Sherlock!

Just as worse was the fact that there was no work for him to distract himself. That was almost as strange as his brothers disappearance. He ALWAYS had work to do. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a whole day off. But Anthea had just told him that all of his todays work had been already done by his employees and that there has been unusually little for him to do today. So therefore he could do nothing than waiting, staring in the air and frantically drinking thea tea his PA brought him in order for him to calm down. Wasn't really working well...

A ringing sound brought him back to reality. In record time he had tipped in his code and opened it.

„ _Come out and take a seat in the black car outside the main entrance. SH"_

For a moment he simply stared at the display.

At first he felt as if a huge weight has been lifted from his heart. He called Anthea in and told her to stop the search.

Then anger began to boil inside him. That was so typically Sherlock! Maybe he really didn't understood how deeply Mycroft cared, but it didn't justified this behaviour! This time he wouldn't let go of the topic that fast. Some day his caring would destroy him. He wished he could lived his motto, his own personal truth – caring was a disadvantage, therefore you should stop caring.

He got up from his chair and put his coat on. The least he deserved was an explanation. And it should better be a good one!

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 **Reviews? :D**


	9. Back to the roots

**Hello there,**

 **this is the last chapter, so the originally as a oneshot planned story finally comes to an end. I thought about writing an epilogue, though. Maybe with the appropriate motivation I gain through reviews... ^^**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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Chapter 9 - Back to the roots  


 **Sherlocks POV**

He sat in the black car Anthea had ordered for him, waiting for his brother to appear, twitching nervously in his seat. He knew Mycroft would be angry. If he was being honest, if their roles were reversed he probably would have been just as angry. Probably. At least a little.

He just hoped he would be able to stall the confrontation until they reached their destination. That was important. He needed everything to happen exactly as planned.

Ah there, Mycroft exited the building, with out of anger tightly squinted eyes and stroded without faltering directly to his car. Sherlock prayed to all deities that all would went well. Then the car door was opened.

„Oh, hello brother dear, what a suprise, how have you been?" One look at his brothers furious face told him that maybe it would have been better to take a different approach. „Oh, I don't know, brother dear, I've been quite busy lately. Chasing after a careless idiot who doesn't seem to give a shit about anyone and anything!"

Sherlock stared. Mycroft had cursed. Openly. And rather crude for his conditions. So he chose the only possible way to deal with his brother in this state. Ignoring his temper and saying the truth.

„Why don't you take a seat? We have a little journey to make. And no – don't say anything. I know you're angry, and confused, but I promise all will be clear in a matter of hours.", „If this is another one of your games, Sherlock-", „It isn't!", Sherlock was fast to interrupt him. It would help no one if Mycroft started to fantasize about all the mischievous things Sherlock could be up to. Not that he wouldn't wonder anyway, but he could at least to calm him by speaking the truth. And it seemed to work. Though still wearing a doubting expression his brother entered the car and sat in front of him. Sherlock knocked at the glas seperating them from their driver and the noise of the starting engine could be heard.

„Just relax, brother. You have nothing to worry about, otherwise Anthea would have never let you go.", „Anthea? She KNEW?", „It was necessary to conduct my plan. But she was nothing but loyal to you, stop worrying.", „You are turning my own employees against me?!", „Not against you! If anything, then they will be even more compliant in the future.", „Sherlock what are you doing? What are WE doing?", „Be patient for once and just wait one hour. I won't talk to you til then, yes that's seems a good idea."

He stayed true to his words, so soon also Mycroft stopped his attempts at getting him to talk and it became quite. They couldn't look out of the ptch-black windows – Sherlock needed his brother to be surprised, after all, so they just closed their eyes and retreated into their respective mind palaces.

 _One hour later:_

The car slowed down and Sherlock was pushed back into reality. Ok, no reason to get nervous, no reason at all. His inner turmoil stayed unnoticed by his brother who took a little longer to return to the present. „Will you tell me now, where we are?", „Don't you know yet? I could have bet that you would follow the street maze in your head.", „I did, but it seemed to have failed me. There's no way we are at home. You haven't been there for god knows how long.", „Why don't you take a look, then?"

Mycroft stared at him for a moment, seemingly analyzing his posture, facial expression and most importantly his eyes, before turning to the car door and opening it. He got out and came to an abrupt halt. „Explain!" Sherlock grinned a little at his brothers obvious bewilderment in his voice and followed him out of the car. They were standing in the driveway of a beautiful manor, two-stories high, victorian style. To the left was a passage that led to a just as beautiful garden area and a wood in a greater distance. Several stone steps led to the entrance, where the old oak door was getting opened at the moment and a warmly old lady appeared.

„Oh, Masters Holmes! You finally returned together. Do come in, do come in. Holmes manor has missed its Masters!", „Hello Betsy, a pleasure to see you, it really has been quite a while. Could you be so nice and bring us some tea to the library?", Sherlock asked in such a friendly tone John would have been shocked to see that he actually COULD be nice, if he wanted to.

„Of course, no problem at all. Make yourself comfortable!" With that the two brothers were pulled into the house by their old landlady, Mycroft still lost in his stupor. Well, now Sherlock would see if his efforts were for nothing or if he managed to something right in the end. And then he could _finally_ return to Baker Street, John and his cases!

 **Mycrofts POV**

To say Mycroft was shocked would be an understatement. His brothers odd behaviour in the car was one thing, but that he returned to their manor without being forced? The last time had been after their mothers death and it wasn't exactly a nice stay here... At least Sherlock was safe. No matter how furious he was about his little brothers antics, that he was safe was most important. Therefore he would willingly play along for now. He didn't want him to disappear for a second time! And the whole ordeal seemed quite important to Sherlock. But that didn't mean he wasn't shocked!

Without a word he let himself pull into the house by Betsy, then he simply followed his brother to the library. Without talking about it they took residence in their old favourite armchairs in front of the large window through which one could oversee the whole Holmes property. A minute later Betsy brought their tea, still quietly mumbling about how happy she was of seeing them here, together. Then it turned completely silent again and Sherlock fitched nervously in his chair, again.

„Spill it, Sherlock, you've tried my patience today more than above the bearable level.", „Yes, yes, no hurry." His little brother seemed to gather his courage before beginning to speak again, before finally beginning to explain.

„Mycroft. You know how we're working. You understand better than anyone else how it is completely normal for us to be ignorant, rude sometimes and annoying to each other." He looked at him for confirmation and Mycroft nodded, a bit confused. „And though this concept is normally working for us totally fine I found myself wondering if some of my recent actions towards you were a little 'not good'.", „Sherlock, what are you talking about? I assure you that everything is fine.", „No it isn't. And that's the problem!" He began to breathe a little harder – obviously struggeling with openly acknowledging that he was wrong about something, even though Mycroft still didn't knew what that would be.

„You went to me, seeking comfort and I not only didn't realized what the whole situation was about, but was additionally contributing to your sorrow. That's unacceptable." Sherlock waved with his hand to underline his point while Mycroft could do nothing but stare at him. „What the hell are you talking about? Me seeking comfort? I don't do emotions, you know that perfectly well!", „Wrong! You're lying!" Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. „I forgot your birthday, for god damn sake, for real this time AND mocked you about coming to Baker Street on that very day. I only figured out the reason of your attendance of the gathering on the following day, when it was definetely too late."

Mycroft felt a warm feeling seeping inside his veins, working its way through his whole body. This was the closest of an apology he got from Sherlock for decades. And about something mundane as forgotten birthdays and feelings, things they usually deemed as useless.

„Thank you, Sherlock, I really appreciate that you care. But what's with that behaviour the last days?", „It's part of my too late arriving birthday present for you, of course.", „Birthday present? Your last present to me was when I left for university. You gave me an adviser 'How to find your dream woman' with the words, if I'd marry as fast as possible, I couldn't annoy you any longer!" Sherlock at least had the decency to look the Holmes-version of sheepish. „Well, you were annoying as hell after all, always meddling in my affairs... But that's unimportant right now. We're both older, more mature, aren't we? Either way, _yes_ , I thought it appropriate to make up for my ignorance. So stop questioning it!"

At that Mycroft started to grin a bit. Leave it to Sherlock to be rude even while apologizing and delivering a present. „So, pray tell me, what's this present you're talking about?" Now it was Sherlocks turn again to loose an inch of his composure, before starting to talkslowly. „First of all, you already know that Anthea knew about my doings. She helped me, actually. Thanks to her I was able to get all of your todays work and some of tomorrows done, so we can make use of our free time here. You needed a break!", „I KNEW it was strange I had nothing to do today. I've always hav something to do." He watched his brother carefully, seeing his nervousness about how he would react and his need to do everything right for once. „Thank you, Sherlock, that was quite thoughtful." A sigh could be heard, then Sherlock had regained his confidence. „Do you think that was all? Don't insult me, brother mine. Next on my to do list was to speak with all of your staff. They won't dare to annoy you in the future as they did till now. There are some really big idiots there – I don't know how you haven't kill anyone yet!", „My words. Sadly they are already the least idiot ones... but thank you, Sherlock, it might spare me some headaches!", „I hope so. Last but not least I have something material for you. It's actually something you already own, technically and therefore also another apology."

His little brother rummaged around in his coat pockets while Mycrofts curiosity increased dramatically. It's been a while since Sherlock has been in an emotional state such as this, clearly feeling guilty and he was more than happy about this change of mind. He missed this uncomplicated, easy time he used to spent with Sherlock in their later childhood, before Sherlock became the self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath after dealing with the ups and downs of going to school and having to deal with other children.

While Mycroft drank the rest of his tea Sherlock finally found what he's been looking for and gave him a small parcel, wrapped in a neutral emerald green paper. It felt hard, probably a book. When his curiosity got the better of him he began to open it. He unfolded the wrapping, looked at the cover of the book and gasped. „Sherlock...", he was speechless. Emotions he didn't want to think about threatened to come to the surface and were only willed away with the hardest concentration. „Like I said, it's been officially yours since Mummys death, so it isn't really a present, but I think it was about time you got it back. I'm sorry for taking it out of spite, only because I knew you've wanted it desperately since you were able to read your first words."

Mycroft couldn't say anything at all, while staring at the beautiful cover of 'Alice in wonderland', his mothers favourite. She had read it to him when he couldn't sleep due to thunderstorms or nightmares, had delved together with him into this world of strangeness, which was oddly comforting to him, who always felt out of place and just _different_ than anybody else. It had been something between him and his mother, an escape from reality, one of the few things where they had been completely at peace together. It had hurt immensely when Sherlock took it after Mummys death and left him without his very own personal escape, his one oppurtunity to forget about his desperation. Especially as Sherlock had knew how much it meant to him and took it still! But for his little brother to realize the extent of its importance to him and to give it back, to show openly that he DID care, was a balm to all the pain that had gnawed at him for the last few months!

„Thank you, brother mine!" Then he did something he hadn't done for an eternity – he pulled his brother into a tight embrace. „You're welcome!", Sherlock whispered and hugged him back after he got over his initial shock.

Maybe not anything was lost. Maybe there was still hope for them!

THE END

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 **You are the ones who decide if there'll be an epilogue, so please tell me what you think :D**


	10. Epilogue

**Hey there,**

 **here comes the promised epilogue - and the story is finally finished!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed reading it :)**

 **Greetings, EvannaLy**

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Chapter 10 - Epilogue

 **Mycrofts POV**

 _One year later_

It's been ecaxtly one year since the fateful day at Baker Street. Some things changed, most stayed the same. He and Sherlock were still fighting over everything and anything, they were still trying to annoy the hell out of each other and Anthea and Molly still had to calm things down once in a while.

And still.

Their dynamics had changed. Or to be more precise, Sherlocks intention during their quarrels had changed. He fought without being unnecessary mean or hurtful. It's been more brotherly bickering than real fighting most of the times.

He couldn't even form words on how grateful he was for that.

So, all in all had it been a very good year, indeed. And today they would celebrate just that, inofficially of course. It was his birthday today, after all. Maybe it would be the first where he got congratulations from Sherlock on the very day since him being 15. Even if not, the fact that his little brother was throwing a party – oh, mind you, 'social gathering' – for him was already enough. John, Molly and Mary would come, probably also DI Lestrade and he would bring Anthea with him. She had been crucial for this whole process of 'behaving like brothers once more', after all.

Together they left their car and walked to the front door of 221B Baker Street. It took only a knock and a second later they faced an excited looking Mrs. Hudson.

„Oh, my dear boy, happy birthday! What a joyful day!" She pulled him into a motherly embrace without a notice and Mycroft beared it a little dumbstrucked until she let go of him. Anthea let out a chuckle while he regained his composure, which earned her an annoyed glare. She only grinned a little wider. Then they were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson again.

„Why aren't you wearing costumes, darlings? Normally I would have to sent you back, but cause it's your special day today, I'll say nothing. Don't make a habit out of it, though!", „Costume? What costume? Sherlock didn't mentioned anything!" Maybe he had given his little brother too much credit. What the hell was he up to now? It was only now that realized that Mrs. Hudson wore a completely white dress, pearls around her neck and a small crown on her head.

„Your costume, silly. It it a theme party, after all.", „Theme party?", Anthea asked sceptically. „It was Sherlocks idea, actually, I was a little surprised myself, if I'm honest. But he said that he fell in love with the book recently and just HAD to make this party today a costume party!" Mycroft sighed. „Let me guess, we're cherishing 'Alice in wonderland'.", „That's right, darling. I'm starring as the fairy godmother. Or was it white queen? It is a little confusing! But now come on, come on, you have to see the flat. It really is wonderland! And the best of all – Sherlock has promised me that he would be the one to clean up afterwards."

Mycroft shared a desperate glance with Anthea before following his brothers landlady and climbing the stairs.

When they finally reached the top of the stairs and were about to enter his brothers flat Mycroft took a deep breath and made himself ready for whatever craziness Sherlock had thought of now. Mrs. Hudson opened the door, he stepped in and was – speechless. Most ohe interior had been moved out and everywhere were plants in all different sizes. He couldn't even make out the walls or windows! The floor hasn't been spared and was mostly covered by leaves, grass and moss, tricking you into believing you were standing in the clearing of a forest or something. The cries of birds and the sound of trees swaying in the wind, rustling and whispering filled the air. A line of lights, half hidden by some exotic flowers showed the way to the place where one could normally find the kitchen.

„It really IS wonderland, Mrs. Hudson was right!", Anthea said, clearly impressed. „Indeed, it is.", was the only thing he could come up with. As they both started to follow the lights there were suddenly steps behind them, dimmed by the covered floor. „Well, well, well, look what we have here? Little Alice has returned to wonderland!"

Mycroft spinned around and had to take a step back, shocked by the sight which greeted him. Sherlock was wearing a costume, and a very good one one might add, presenting him as the mad hatter [*1]. His face was covered in make up and Mycroft felt himself out back to the time in their childhood, when Sherlock used to dress up as a pirate.

„You are defining a new level of 'exaggeration', I see, brother. Pray tell me what all of this is for?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and came closer. „Isn't it obvious? We are celebrating a certain book which I happen to know you also are really fond of. And you came here at just the right time. Like I said, you're the perfect Alice, all 'outside-world' dressed and awestrucked at this display of miracles! And Anthea can be the white, fluffy bunny you chased and who brought you into this world. Ah, so many metaphors – I just love this book!" He sent them a self-satisfied smirk and took of to the kitchen. „White, fluffy bunny?! Is he kidding me?", „At least you're not a small naive girl wearing skirts and bows in her hair!" They stared at each other for a moment, before averting their eyes. One second longer and they would have started to laugh, and they simply didn't do that. „Let's get this over with!", Mycroft said instead and so they followed Sherlock, bracing theirselves for any other madness his brother has thought of. His role at least definetely fitted him!

The kitchen left them speechless for the second time in a row. Mycroft didn't know how his brother had done it, but the table, normally stuffed with weird experiments – often including body parts –, used dishes in dire need of washing or other peculiar objects that have no right to be on the eating table in a normal household, was completely transformed into the feast table that Alice discovered in the story. No detail was spared, it was just like Mycroft had imagined it all those years ago, when his mother had read it with him for the very first time. Around it Molly, DI Lestrade, John and Marry had assembled, all wearing a theme related costume, all smiling at them expectantly.

„Sherlock...", Mycroft couldn't find any words that were able to describe what he felt in this moment. It was without doubt the most thoughtful and heartfelt thing Sherlock had done for him ever, excluding the whole apologizing incident. And while he was elated about it, even, if he dare say it – thrilled –, he was also at loss how to react properly. They didn't do such things for each other. Saving their lifes, ok. Granting a request – if they were in the right mood. But going this far for simple, plain, emotional reasons – it was extremely extraordinary.

Sherlock saved him from embarassing himself further, though.

„After our protagonist Alice has finally deigned to join us, we can start this special meal at last. Though it would have been far more authentic to wear a dress, Mycroft. It seems as you haven't been on your height currently, haven't you? Such a mistake wouldn't have occured a few years ago. But well, no ones safe from the claws of time, it seems. Have you heard about this really fascinating book about preventive cognitive training for seniority? I immediately thought of you..."

Well, at least some things stayed the same. There wouldn't be a day where Sherlock would miss an opportunity to tease him about averything and anything. Nonetheless he listened gratefully to his brothers rambling, thanking him silently for all he has done for him today. They Holmes men were at their best when refraining from speaking, after all. Nothing would ever change that!

Mycrofts eyes wandered around the flat again, lingering at all the small details Sherlock had thought of and shook his head a little. It was madness. And he loved his brother for this. Especially, as it meant that they really did it – that they really became brothers again, that their bond was strengthened after all these years of resentment, hurt and anger.

For the first time in seemingly eternity he felt completely and thoroughly at peace.

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[*1 I hope this is the right translation. As you know I'm not a native speaker, so I hope everyone knows who I'm talking about. If it's wrong please tell me so I can correct it :)]

 **A final review, plz? :D**


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